Sorry to go absent after #1920Club – my internet died! I was still able to use my phone data, but it wasn’t great for writing blog posts. And goodness knows the internet is vital at the moment. Thanks so much to everyone who joined in the 1920 Club – there were loads of reviews I haven’t managed to read properly yet, what with the internet giving up, but I will at some point. (And my comments were getting spammed on WordPress blogs for a while, so maybe check your spam comments folder too…)
Karen and I have come up with the next club year for October, and I’m already excited about it. We’ll be sharing it soon – watch this space!
We’ve all been reading what works best in this challenging time – and I have turned to quite a lot of Beverley Nichols, and will no doubt indulge in some more. One of the books I’ve read is the inauspiciously titled For Adults Only, from 1932. It’s nowhere near as salacious as it sounds – rather, it is a series of dialogues between parent and child, intended to satirise parenting manuals of the time, but also rather like a catechism. For example – this, from ‘A Child’s Guide to the Customs’:
Q. (In tones of piercing clarity.) Mother, what is that lovely smell?
A. Smell?
Q. Yes. Coming out of your fur coat?
A. Heavens! It’s broken.
Q. (With even more piercing clarity.) What’s broken?
A. Ssh! People will hear you.
Q. Why shouldn’t they hear me, mummy?
A. It was a bottle of scent.
Q. Why shouldn’t they hear that you’d broken a bottle of scent?
A. Be quiet, or I shall take away your lemon.
(There is a moment’s pause, during which the unfortunate parent disposes of the glass, and sponges her coat with a handkerchief, which she eventually throws overboard. Then she returns to the cross-examination.)
Q. You still smell lovely, mummy.
A. It will wear off.
Q. You smell like the lady who comes to supper with daddy when you go away for week-ends.
And so on and so forth. We get similar child’s guides to theatre, opera, sun bathing, packing, women motorists, bridge, and all sorts. It’s all good fun. The downside is that they are basically all the same – the child tends to have been party to secrets, while also being very literal and rather clueless. They are insistent in the search for truth, and generally the parent seems to loathe them. I don’t know where they appeared originally, but I imagine it was in a weekly magazine or something – and it would be a delight like that. Like a reliable sketch comedy character, appearing to do their bit. Read all in one go, it is rather repetitive.
What is an endless delight, though, is the illustrations – done by Joyce Dennys, of Henrietta’s War fame. I always love seeing her illustrations – they have a vitality and comedy that felt fresh even when Nichols’ bit was beginning to wear a little.
So, highly recommend – but maybe just read one a week! And it’s interesting to see Nichols doing something a little different from the other books I’ve read by him.
Sorry you’ve been having Internet and WordPress issues, Simon – now is not the time…
As for this, it’s a Beverley I haven’t read, but one I do own – hurrah! I will take your advice and read in small amounts at a time… ;D
No internet — the horror! And there’s no way I could write an entire blog post on my phone, I can’t even comment on other blogger’s posts.
I really enjoyed #The1920 club and am very much looking forward to the next one. Hopefully it’ll be a year with Beverley Nichols available and I can combine the two! I haven’t read him yet but apparently my library has three of his books. Fingers crossed they open up again in time.
You have options! Sunlight on the Lawn, the third of his Merry Hall trilogy (though doesn’t really matter if you read them individually) – and Death to Slow Music, a murder mystery I haven’t got.
What a great reminder to re-read some Beverley Nichols. I have managed to settle my thoughts this month, now that we’re growing accustomed to the new normal, and so I’m reading a LOT…I think a couple of his memoir-ish books might really suit me right now.
I’ve never read Beverley Nichols but maybe I should. The quotation in your review really made me laugh.
Loving your top photo – how did you stage that? I can’t imagine life without good net access these days – my internet lost its connection the other day – but phew! discovered that the router had been hidden behind a huge sheet of mdf from my daughter’s A-level art evicted from the lounge into the hallway. Moved and signal restored.
I was just walking past the shelves and realised how close it was, so took a quick snap! Yes, much relief to have internet back.
I still feel like conceptually I should like Nichols, I’ve just yet to find a book that convinces me to do so. Not sure this would be it but the added bonus of illustrations by Joyce Dennys is alluring.